Mary's Chance
by Hello-again931
Summary: Aided by Caroline Bingley, Mary Bennet finds herself with new personalities: the quiet girl, and the party girl, in her quest to get a boy who's already in love with her sister. Mary has to decide whether getting the boy is worth changing herself.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **_Another fanfic! I had this idea and couldn't resist writing about it. Enjoy. _

*&*

"Miss Bennet, pay attention!" Mrs. Norberry commanded, smacking a ruler on my desk. I turned back from the window, showing the vibrant sunny summer day, to face her. Her graying hair, usually twisted in a tight bun at the nape of her neck was loosening, implying that maybe I wasn't the first one today to give her trouble. Her brown eyes were flaming with fury. "That is the second time this class! Do you want me to give you a detention?"

"No, Mrs. Norberry," I answered immediately. "It's just that – well, I know all this." I waved my hand to my textbook and at the chalk board. "It's not anything new."

"This is _grade 12_ trigonometry, a whole year above you. And the beginning of the school year, Miss Bennet. This is very advanced for you." She said this as though I was merely a child throwing a tantrum, and she was just waiting for me to tire out. She was slightly amused.

Her good humor vanished when she looked behind me to see Chris Freemont whispering to Stacie Warburg, his hand on her knee, slowly crawling up to her mini-skirt. "Mr. Freemont," she barked, "stop talking and keep your hands to yourself, or its detention!"

"As I was saying, Mrs. Norberry," I continued, wiping her spit of my cheek, "it's not new for me. During the summer, I wanted to get ahead, so I read some of the material. I got a little – I lost track of time, and I ended up reading the whole thing."

Her lips turned slightly to make a small, almost unnoticeable smile. As soon as I saw it, her lips returned to her usual frown. "Miss Bennet, the reason behind school is to teach pupils. I cannot do that when you have read every lesson I planned to teach. Stop reading textbooks, or its detention."

At the end of her rant, the bell rang. Students quickly filed out of the room, hastily picking up their books so they could get to their next class on time. Mrs. Norberry sat at her desk; grading the quick pop-quiz she conducted the first half of our class.

"Again, I'm sorry, Mrs. Norberry. I didn't mean to disrupt the whole class." I had never really been in trouble before, so I thought my best choice would be to apologize. She nodded and waved me away, not looking up from the papers.

Outside the classroom, someone came up from behind me and put their hand on my shoulder. Startled, I jumped; my books slipped from my hands and fell on my feet.

"Hey nerd, thanks for stalling the class," Chris said, Stacie by his side. He strutted off with his girlfriend. He didn't help me with my books.

Sighing, I knelt down and massaged my aching toe where the textbook had fallen. I quickly picked up my binder, but couldn't find any of my notebooks. I internally cursed, wondering if someone stole them for a joke.

"Looking for these?"

A god stood before me, holding out my blue flowered notebooks. His hair was perfectly sculpted, and a brilliant shade of red. His eyes a dark, deep blue. He was dressed casually, in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He wasn't a teacher, but he was too old to be a student.

"Um – thanks," I stuttered. I took the notebooks out of his hands and placed them in my binder where they wouldn't get lost. My eyes never left his face. "Who are you?" I blurted. I flushed and swore under my breath. Why was I so awkward?

"I'm Charles Bingley. My family just moved here from the city. I'm here to pick up my sister, Caroline, but I have no idea where the office is," he answered. Even his voice was perfect.

"Oh, it's just down the hall to your right." He started to turn. "Bye, Charles!" He turned back and smiled at me.

"Please, call me Charlie."

*&*

"Who was _that_?" Lydia asked, getting some lip gloss from her wonderful, pink perfectly teenage girl locker. It was sweet and superficial, with pictures of hot male celebrities taped up on the door, covered in glitter and hearts. My locker was plain, full of books and a picture of Albert Einstein, along with the theory of relativity.

"Who was who?" I said casually, like I didn't know what she was talking about. Of course she was asking about Charles – Charlie. He was cute, charming, and unlike the boys at Meryton High. She was looking for someone new to flirt with.

"Oh, my _gawd_, Mary! You know who I'm talking about. That, like, major hunk that you were talking to. Who is he?" She shut her locker and crossed her arms, she meant business. Annoying, silly business.

Why did the school board set up lockers alphabetically, not by grade? I was beside my two annoying sisters, and they were the bane of my existence. Kitty, my other sister, was held up in class because she failed the pop-quiz, testing what we already knew (almost every teacher at our school held a test; it was tradition). Apparently, Kitty knew nothing.

"Just a guy, picking up his sister. He's way too old for you." I didn't want Lydia to be interested in Charlie. I liked him, and I didn't want her to have him. She'd just chew up and spit him out. Sweet, charming Charlie didn't deserve that.

"You are like, such a hippocrite. If he's way too old for me, he's like, too old for you," said Lydia, opening her locker again to check her hair. She found a straightener in her bag and began to fix her bangs.

"First of all, it's _hypocrite_. It's a person who pretends to have morals and beliefs that they don't actually have. It has nothing to do hippos. And second, I don't even know how old he is, I just know that he's out of school. And everyone out of school is too old for you."

"Fine," she scoffed. "You are like, so mean. Anyway, who's his sister?" She seemed happy with her hair and put the straightener back. She took out some eye shadow and began to apply it.

"I don't know. I think he said her name was Caroline." I glanced at her reflection on her locker mirror. "There's too much on the left eye," I added. Wait, what was I doing? I was gossiping, sort of, and I was critiquing Lydia's make-up. The most make-up I wore was chap stick. Clear, waxy chap stick, not like the pink, glossy stuff Lydia and Kitty applied. I'm talking, too. For the last two years, I barely talked to anyone at my locker. Now I'm _gossiping _with _Lydia_? Oh, crap, and I'm emphasizing. Like another shallow teenage girl. Ten minutes together and already she's rubbing off on me.

"Oh, thanks. You saved me from, like, a fashion faux pas. So what's this Caroline's last name? What grade is she in?"

"Um – Bingley, and I don't know," I said, quickly grabbing the right books from my locker. I needed to get out of there before I did anything weirder. "I got to go get to class." I left without another word.

*&*

_Please review!_


	2. Chapter 2

After school, Jane, my older sister, offered me a ride, which I accepted rather than taking the bus. Kitty was (again) getting a lecture from her Science teacher, Mrs. Barnes because she neglected her work during class. Lydia managed to get a ride from her friend's boyfriend. That surprised me. Her first day in high school and already she has dozens of friends. Though it was understandable. Lydia was cute, charismatic, and fun; everyone liked her. Everyone but me, of course.

Jane was the oldest of us Bennet girls at 26. This was her first year teacher at Meryton High, where she taught English. Two years ago she bought an old farm house outside of town, but after last year's cruel winter, she decided to insulate the living room, dining room, and the whole upper level's walls. She was currently staying at our house. My mom didn't mind; Jane was her favourite because she was prettiest.

Jane tapped her hand against the steering wheel impatiently. We were at a green light, but the blue Sedan wasn't moving. "C'mon, c'mon," Jane muttered, checking her watch. The lady in the car continued talking on her cell. "Screw it," she said, cutting in front of her. "Why do people have to spend every minute of every day on their cells, not caring about other people?"

I didn't answer, and she fell silent. We sat in silence for a few minutes, getting red lights from both of the traffic lights in town. A good thing about Jane: she was quiet. We could both not talk and not feel the slightest bit awkward. I liked having her around when Lydia was in one of her particularly chatty moods.

"Did you meet the new girl?" I blurted, cringing by the way my voice sounded. Eager and demanding, slightly desperate, too. My sudden outburst started her, but she quickly smirked.

"Mare, I've been teacher at your school for a day. I hardly recognized anyone from grade school," she said. She was looking at the road, squinting through the rain. Another thing about Jane: she was cautious, and preferred not to take risked. Also like me.

"Sorry, I forgot." I hoped she didn't notice my grin didn't reach my eyes. "Her name's Caroline, I think. It might've been Clementine – her last name is Bingley."

"Caroline? Oh, yes, I met her. She is so kind. And beautiful! She told me that she used to pay the big bucks to get her hair, make-up – everything done professionally in the city. It shows! Oh, she is such a sweetie, as well as her brother –"

"What?!" I questioned, my eyes wide and my face red; embarrassing things I do when I'm angry. She met Charlie? But Charlie was mine. Well, not really. Actually, I hardly even knew him. Regardless, I saw him first; therefore he was mine until I didn't want him, right? That's how Lydia and Kitty did it, though it really ended until the boy didn't want them, which didn't take very long. Wait, she just said that she met him. It's not like they were dating or anything. They just met. No reason to get possessive.

"I met Charlie when he was picking Caroline up," she began. She called him Charlie. Not a good sign. "She had some appointment of some sort to go to."

"Why didn't she go to the office to meet him?" I accused. Oh, great, Mary, you're accusing her now, I thought. It isn't her fault they met.

"She forgot about it, which is understandable. New school, new people, it must've been very distracting. I just told her no t to do it again, to write it down or something. Not that I mind, it's just because of Mr. Rowland's rule of no one but staff and students past the office. I didn't want him to find out and I get fired on my first day. I would've probably made a record, wouldn't I've? Oh, I'm babbling like Lydia. I do that a lot. What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Two bad things about Jane: though she was quiet, sometimes she would prattle on about something unimportant and she was very observant. The second one wasn't bad at times, but today it was.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," I assured her. She nodded and turned back to the wet road. A few minutes later I caught her looking at me strangely. She blushed and pretended to be looking behind me. She was also horrible at lying.

"What did you think of Charlie?" I said suddenly. Jane was expecting a remark this time, and answered promptly.

"He seemed very sweet. And charming," she added, glancing at me again. "I hope he doesn't just _seem_ that way and actually is, because that would be a waste of an evening that I could be spending working."

"A waste of an evening?" I repeated, trying to keep my voice normal. Inside I was screaming.

"Oh, well, it's nothing." I held my gaze. She sighed loudly. "Fine! We were just talking in class while Caroline was getting her books and he asked me out to that new place in town this Friday. What's it called? Anyway, I couldn't really say no. He asked me in front of my students, who were egging me on, or at least the girls were. And his face was so – hopeful. And when I said yes, he was just so happy; I would feel horrible if I let him down."

She acted like she was confessing to a murder, and she might as well should've. She murdered – no, slaughtered my chances with Charlie. How can I possibly compete with Jane, curvy, gorgeous, confident Jane? I was plain and mousy, with no good qualities at all, except for intelligence, but that annoyed everyone.

This silence was awkward. Very awkward. Not at all like usual. Of course, usually when Jane and I are together, there was no tension in the air. She probably didn't even know why I was mad at her. But I wasn't just mad. I was seething. Absolutely livid. But it was reasonable, right? This was the first guy in the seventeen years of my life that has so much as _looked_ at me, not to mention smile! And she takes him right from under me! It was my right to have him. Now it was my right to be upset with her. Completely and utterly livid.

*&*

Dinner went on as usual. Mom cooked a pot roast to celebrate Jane living with us for a month (**A/N: **_I honestly don't know how long it takes to insulate an entire house. I just needed an excuse for Jane to be there_). She said it was also a welcome home dinner to Elizabeth, my other sister, but it was obvious it was a lie. Lizzy was mom least favourite daughter, who was closely following me. Dad, however, adored Lizzy. She was witty and clever, not the prettiest or the smartest of us, but Dad didn't value those kinds of things as much as Mom. I was third in his list, because I did care what people thought of me, something that Jane and Lizzy didn't.

Elizabeth moved to the city to go to college and to live with her boyfriend of three years when she was nineteen. I was fifteen. Trevor was supposedly her soul-mate. This meant a lot because Lizzy wasn't one to be lovey-dovey for someone. Two weeks ago, the fallacious Trevor left her for one of his co-workers. Lizzy was heartbroken and moved back home until she got her life back together. Dad seemed slightly embarrassed when he was with her, because he was assured his clever Lizzy wouldn't get so beat up for a _boy_. It didn't seem very like Elizabeth, but more like Lydia.

"What's it been like here without me?" Lizzy said, studying her burnt piece of roast. She smirked while Mom pretended it was an accident. Jane sent Lizzy and apologetic look, cutting up the juiciest, richest slice Mom had given her. Dad chuckled and patted Lizzy on the back.

"About the same," Dad answered. "You didn't add much to the noise around the house, and you never complained or threw tantrums or anything like that. But there seems to be a lack of cleaning." He threw Mom a grinned and she flicked a pea at him. In a normal family, this would've been a joke. In the Bennet family, this was a polite way to get back at each other for being insufferable.

"I think I'm doing an okay job," I added in. Lizzy's main chore in the household was to dust, vacuum, wash the windows, clean the bathrooms until pristine, take out the trash, really any chore in a household. I was having trouble with all that responsibility. And I had to do my chores from before Lizzy was gone! Being the least favourite child was so unfair.

"So, Mare, how's the hunk?" Lydia asked, 'accidently' dropping her potatoes on the ground, where Lizzy's husky, Aurora, would scarf them down. Lydia avoided carbs at all cost. Kitty followed her example.

I ignored her and the table went silent. It was practically a rule in my family that I didn't get guys. Aurora's loud, long belch filled the silence.

"What hottie?" Kitty asked immediately. Kitty was the queen of rumours and gossip.

"There is no hunk and no hottie," I said slowly, hoping Kitty and Lydia got the message_. Shut up_.

"Ooh, who is it?" Lizzy asked. Dad sent her a disapproving look. He hated gossip. "Dad, it just, Mare never gets a guy, let alone a hunk! I'm allowed to be curious," she defended.

"You didn't tell me about a guy in the car," Jane added in, rising from the table. She checked her watch. "Oh, crap. I should be grading those tests. Lydia, fill me in on the hunk later."

She nodded and said, "Okay, Mary, now tell us about Charlie."

Dad pushed his plate away and stood up. "I'm leaving the room before I hear something I might regret." With that, he walked out the door.

*&*

_Please, please review! I've gotten 67 hits and only 3 reviews! It's driving me crazy!_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **I have successfully turned Mary into a total creeper, obsessed with a guy she hardly evens knows…other than that, I'm pretty happy with this.

**Jane had a date**. With him. Charlie. The charming, handsome guy I saw first. The guy that actually _looked_ at me and saw something other than a nerdy bookworm in hand-me-down clothes. The guy that I was falling head over heels for.

But apparently, he was falling head over heels for someone else.

The beautiful, intelligent, graceful Jane had caught his attention, of course, like any other boy. And I was ignored, like always. I couldn't even compare to Jane. She was perfect. She inherited mother's former beauty and style, and dad's intelligence and love of books. I received the rest, the dweeby, ugly traits. I just hoped she aged like Mum.

Somehow, Jane was less than enthusiastic about her date. It seemed that Charlie was fatuous and ubiquitous. How ungrateful! She has the best man in the world wrapped around her perfectly tanned fingers, and she doesn't even want him.

But Jane had no idea that I was feeling this. All she knew was that I was angry with her.

"How was your date?" I asked resentfully without turning around. I was sitting alone in one of the chairs at the kitchen table with a full cup of tea that had gone cold half an hour prior. Jane took the time to take off her coat and lock the door before answering.

"It was okay. We went to the new Mexican place in town – umm…Oh, I always forget the name. Oliver's, Olga's…" she began.

"It's called Orson's Pasta Palace and it's an Italian restaurant. Go on."

"Anyway, we had a pretty good time. He looked absolutely adorable in this dark blue shirt that really brought out his eyes." She sighed, I did too. I could easily imagine him in the flickering candle light of the restaurant, him smiling, his eyes twinkling with delight as we slowly lean in - "He did most of the talking, but as you know, I don't really mind. I like listening." I shook my head. I was getting caught up again. I mean, I hardly knew him. I saw him for about two minutes. All he did was smile at me. He didn't even ask for my name. He wasn't interested. And yet, the more I said this to myself, the less I believed it. What was wrong with me?

"And we have another date planned for next week. We're going to the movies. Do you know what's playing? I'm itching to see that new romantic one, The Lover's Kiss, but something tells me Charlie isn't a real romantic comedy kind of guy." That was great! I hated romantic comedies too! "I think he's more of an action/mystery person. Maybe he'll just go through the movie for me."

Wait, what? They had another date?

"So, it went well, did it?"

"I guess you could say that. I learned a lot about him, but I'm hoping to talk a bit more on this one. I think he was nervous, just babbled on, but I do the same thing, so I can't really judge. What did you do tonight?"

"Lydia and Kitty went out with some friends, Lizzy looked up some apartments in the city, Dad locked himself up in his library, and Mum went over to Mrs. Long's to gossip. I did homework. Nothing unusual," I added bitterly.

Jane laughed, a tinkling, sweet laugh. "I guess I didn't really miss anything, eh?"

I laughed grimly.

**The next day was better than I expected. **Jane drove me to school, and Lydia and Kitty got a ride from friends, so I didn't even have to see them until third period, when we had English together. I learned that that Caroline girl, Charlie Bingley's sister that Jane seemed so fond of, was in two of my classes.

"Hi," I said timidly, to the red haired girl sitting at my lab table in Science. I usually sat alone, since no one really liked me. But it was the only free table in the whole class, so she had no choice. Poor girl, I thought.

"Oh, hello," answered she, flipping her shiny hair behind her shoulder, then holding her hand out. "I'm Caroline Bingley, I'm new here."

I nodded and shook her hand, sitting down.

"You don't talk much, do you? What's your name?" She laughed a pompous laugh.

"Mary Bennet," I answered simply.

"Ah, you must be related to Lydia Bennet, am I correct? You do kind of look similar. Same shape of face, same eyes, same hair. I'm very similar to my brother myself; both of us have red hair and bright blue eyes, and unfortunately, freckles as well."

Lydia and I, look similar? That had to be a compliment, right? I mean, Lydia was one of the prettiest girls in this school. To be told I look like her was well, great. I was starting to like this Caroline girl, even if she was a bit conceited.

"So…" What do I say? What do people talk about? "Where are you from?"

"London. We lived in this beautiful little house in the country, with vast grounds and a private spa. Of course, we had quite a few apartments downtown. For my fifteenth birthday, Daddy bought me my own all to myself, four bedrooms, two of which were closets. I lived there with a maid and a butler for the school week, then Daddy would send a car for me, and I'd go to the country house. It was perfectly wonderful. Then Daddy got remarried to this American bitch who wanted nothing to do with London, and wanted to move here. And my brother, Charles, rather than live in London so I could stay with him, agreed to move in with Daddy and help him with work."

"Oh really? So, where are you living now?"

"This incredibly small house right outside of town. Daddy is building our own little mansion right beside it, because he likes the grounds. We have twenty acres. Of course, that is perfectly horrible for me, as it means he plans to stay here for quite a while."

I nodded, not knowing what to say. "Well…I can understand the feeling. Every teenager wants to leave Meryton, but eventually gets pregnant or married or something like that, so they just settle down here. I really don't want that to happen to me, so I'm moving to London the moment I graduate." Wow, that was a mouthful.

Caroline smiled. "Do you want to come over tonight, Mary?"

**Mary was absolutely perfect for a makeover. **Quiet, shy, and incredibly nerdy, but I could see she had potential. Just a nice haircut, a new wardrobe (those frumpy rags she was wearing were dreadful), some make-up, and maybe some lessons in posture. I mean, she had the looks; she had her beautiful sister's deep eyes and pouty pink lips. She just needed to show them off.

Of course, I wasn't doing this for her. Please, me do anything nice? No, this was for that stupid bitch complaining to Daddy about my heartlessness. Just because I thought she was a cow didn't mean I was unkind, that bitch! Anyway, if I showed Daddy I was friendly and responsible, maybe he'd let me live in London alone, and let me leave this hick town. In a perfect world, maybe…

"Charles!" I called, throwing my bag on the marble floor. Daddy fixed this shack up a bit before we came, adding decent paint colors and respectable bathroom and kitchen fixtures, but it still was a shack. Completely disgusting, only with five bedrooms, four bathrooms.

A maid hastily picked up my bag and hung it on a hook, then ran out the door. This girl was with us long enough that she knew I didn't want to see them more than necessary. Good.

"Yes Caroline?" called Charles.

"I have a friend coming over in an hour. I'll be in my room until then, I have to call Samantha and catch up on the latest London gossip. God, I hate this hick town, nothing ever happens."

"Wait! I thought you said you were refusing to make friends here," he said, running in, wearing oven mitts and an apron.

"Well, I changed my mind. Charles, are you aware that we have a cook? A cook we pay to cook for us? By cooking yourself, you are wasting Daddy's money."

"Wednesday is his day off, didn't you know that?"

I made a displeased noise. Why do these people insist on having days off? It's perfectly ridiculous, we pay them to work, not slack off. Maybe I could bully father into firing him. He did over cook my steak last night…

"No matter. Is that cow here?"

"You mean Eleanor? Yes, she's here. She's upstairs in the office."

"Please, that tramp hasn't worked a day in her life. She finds highly regarded, rich old men and charms them into marrying her. Sooner or later, she's going to drop a radio into his bath water. Then where will we be? She'll be perfectly wealthy and comfortable, and we'll be living on the street."

"Caroline, you're terrible to her. Why don't you just get to know her a little better? She likes you, and she wants to be your friend. Try to be nice to her, will you?"

"I'll be upstairs."

**A/N: **For some odd reason, I'm quite fond of Caroline…anyway, I'm hoping that her little POV thing will be the first and last, as this is Mary's story, but Miss Caroline may have a bit of a mind of her own.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: ** I realized only now that the rating for this story was K+ when Caroline swore a few times, so I changed it to T. I think I'm being a tad bit paranoid, I suppose, but better safe than possibly corrupting young children.

"**Mary, darling!"** cried Caroline affectionately, kissing me on both cheeks like I was a guest at a fancy party, rather than a frumpy teen going over to a friend's house. I smiled when I thought this. Caroline was actually a friend, or at least, soon to be. It felt good to be not alone.

"Er, hi Caroline. This house is absolutely amazing." Marble floors, obviously expensive fine art and statues, Victorian-esque furniture _and _servants, all in the same room? Of course, I could only think, was this girl the Queen or what? Of course, for all I knew, she could be, or 'Daddy' could be a King or in the Mafia or something.

"Oh, this shack? Please," she responded, though clearly flattered. She had changed into a white mini-skirt and bright orange top, along with some silver, diamond jewelry around any other available space. Her red hair was re-styled into a twist that rested on her shoulder. I wondered if she had her own personal hairdresser at her disposal. "You, maid, get her bag. My father isn't paying you to stand there like an idiot." The girl, who looked hardly older than us, ran in and hung my bag in the closet, then curtsied to us.

"Now, shall we?" she continued with a bright smile, after the maid disappeared. She led me up stairs and to the first door on the left. "This is my bedroom. Daddy took down two walls to make it a suitable size for me."

It was huge, probably the size of the whole first floor of my house. The walls were a sparkly gold color, and all the other furniture was too. All the fabric was a scarlet color, most of it velvet, though I caught a couple silks and satins hiding on a couple of pillows. She had a sitting area with a fireplace, a dressing area and a place for the bed.

Caroline collapsed on a giant, luxurious couch while I uncomfortably stood there, afraid to touch anything. With my luck, the minute I touch something, it would break into a million pieces. "How boring! There's nothing to do," she said, pouting, and checking her nails.

"Ooh, Mary!" she exclaimed suddenly, sitting up. "I have the perfect idea. I'll give you a makeover! You will look so beautiful if you just did something different with your hair, and brightened your face with some make up. Oh, Mary, please! I promise, you can just wash it all off if you don't like it!"

"Er, well, OK." Getting a makeover from the selfish Caroline Bingley was probably like getting a ticket onto a NASA spaceship. Plus, it would be an excuse for me not to talk, and it wouldn't be awkward. And I could just think of Jane's face when I walked in looking amazing and, of course, I couldn't help but think of the look on Charlie's face as well.

"Let's get started, then!"

She began with brushing my hair, then washing my face, then handing me a white, fluffy robe to change into. She then called in a couple people on a speaker next to her door, which ended up being her hair, makeup, and wardrobe stylists (I guessed right). At that point, it was just a blur. The makeup artist poked and prodded my face with different brushes and powders, while the hair stylist played with my hair, occasionally assisted by Caroline with a comment or two, who spent most of 'her' makeover sitting on the couch, sifting through some gossip magazines. Before I was done, Caroline insisted on turning my chair so I couldn't see myself in the mirror, and then she vanished into her massive closet with the clothes person for a good twenty minutes.

When I was done with the hair and makeup, Caroline presented me with a pile of clothes she said that were, 'used', though they looked new to me. I guess when you're as rich as Caroline, you don't need to re-wear your clothes, I thought. You could just buy new ones. So I tried all of them on, and kept the ones that Caroline and the clothes person agreed on, and disposed all the others. The three stylists left the room.

"OK, Mary," said Caroline excitedly, with her hands over my eyes. "You can look."

That girl in the mirror – she wasn't me. She was tall and pretty, maybe – well, maybe even beautiful. Shoulder length hair, a dark brown, and tousled lightly, with modern straight cut bangs, and rich brown eyes that shimmered and sparkled, framed by dark, thick lashes. Her skin was pale and utterly flawless; her voluptuous lips a soft pink, and her clothes trendy and fashionable. This girl looked like she just stepped off a runway in Paris.

As I stepped forward to take a closer look, reaching my hand to my face to make sure it was real, Caroline flashed a proud smile. "Well, Mary? Don't you look fabulous?" I nodded, grinning. "Oh, and here are your new spectacles, I took the liberty to I find some nice frames for you online. You're lucky that I have such good connections, dear, or you'd be walking around with your old dreadful ones for another week." I put them on. The girl in the mirror somehow got prettier."

The antique, golden phone rang. "Oh!" said Caroline, running to it. "It's probably my friend from London. Please excuse me, Mary. How about you walk around in your heels a bit, get used to them? You look very shaky, and it's making me nervous." I nodded and began to walk around on the hard wood.

"Samantha dear, how I missed you! Wait, _who _did _what_? Oh, one moment –" She covered the mouth piece with her hand and hissed, "Mary, that sound of those heels clacking is horrid. Go walk around downstairs or something, please!"

Again, I nodded and left the room, holding on the walls for support. Curse you, utterly gorgeous, black stilettos, I though angrily, staring at the steep winding staircase, uneasy. Lifting my classic midnight blue, draping pocket dress (that's how the clothes guy described it, I honestly had no idea); I slowly made my way down the stairs, taking about thirty seconds for each one. Finally, I reached the bottom, at which point I heard clapping.

"You actually made it!" said Charlie cheerfully, looking perfect as always, though I only met him once.

For a brief moment I lost my ability to breathe. "Did you – how long have you been there?" I asked, horrified at the very thought.

"Since the fourth stair from the top," answered he, chuckling. "You must be Caroline's friend, am I right?" Internally, my face fell. He didn't remember me. "Haven't we met before?" Nope, never mind!

"Er, I think so," I said, trying to sound indifferent, like I didn't spend the last few days thinking of nothing but him. "You helped me with my books after I dropped them. You were picking up Caroline from school. I'm Mary, by the way."

"Oh, well, hello again Mary," he said smiling. This guy never seemed to be in a bad mood, or even frown, for that matter. "Caroline kick you out of her room?"

"Well…"

"She did, didn't she?" He sighed. "Carol's a bit rude sometimes, actually, most of the time. She's quite a bit spoiled. Do you want to try some cookies?"

Extremely confused, but still amazed by his very presence, I nodded. He smiled and led me through several expensively decorated rooms to a modern kitchen. "You know, you look very different," he began, sliding a few steaming chocolate chip cookies from their baking sheet to a plate.

"Yes, well, Caroline gave me a makeover today. She gave me a lot of her old stuff to keep." I gestured to the dress and the chunky pearl necklace I was wearing.

He laughed. "Caroline refuses to wear most things twice. We usually give it to good will, so there are a lot of beautifully dressed homeless people walking around the streets of London." At the same moment he finished talking, a dark haired bloke, probably about Charlie's age but much less handsome, walked in, grabbed a cookie, and absent-mindedly wandered off. Charlie laughed. "That's my friend, William Darcy, he's staying with us for a bit. He must be really thinking about something. . ."

He took out a milk jug and poured two glasses. "I should warn you Mary; these are my very first cookies. They may not taste very well." I nodded and popped on into my mouth, chewed, then promptly spit it out into my napkin.

"How much salt did you put in them!" I cried.

"You know, cook books never really explain how much a pinch really is. For all I know, it could be a handful, or a whole pound."

I laughed. "But handful seems much more likely, don't you think? Why are you baking anyway? Don't you have a cook or something?"

"He's off Wednesdays," he answered simply. I took a sip of milk, while Charlie bit into his cookie.

"So…why are you baking? Have a craving for homemade cookies?"

"No, I just – well, I'm baking for a girl," he said shyly, blushing. Oh man, was he cute!

"What girl? What does she look like?" Oh, please, please describe me, in all my new prettiness! Please, please, please!

"Well, she's really smart, and funny, and pretty –" OK, that might be me, with my new look and all, "- with beautiful, long blonde hair and these blue eyes…" Jane. It was Jane. He was completely obsessed with her, and I was completely obsessed with him, and Jane could care less. Life was so unfair sometimes.

"Er, I should go," I said, picking up the bag full of Caroline's old clothes that she got a servant to get all ready for me. "It's late. It was really nice seeing you again."

**A/N: **I wish I could put an eighties makeover montage in writing….it would make everything much easier.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Is it sad, that by watching Youth in Revolt, I ended up with this idea? For those of you who've seen it, try to imagine New Mary as a non-violent, non- smoking Francois.

**It was hard to say**, whether school the next day was awesome or horrifying. For the old Mary, it would be perfectly terrifying, but was I Mary anymore? Well, I was Mary, just not the Mary everyone knew and ignored. I was New Mary: beautiful, graceful, charming. Everyone turned when they saw New Mary walk in, laughing and talking with Caroline Bingley, who had already gotten herself the reputation as the hottest girl in school, as well as the richest. Everyone's jaw dropped when she swaggered into my classes, even the teachers. The New Mary liked the attention.

Old Mary would've been repulsed if people looked at her that way, like a piece of meat. Old Mary liked hiding in the shadows of the back of a classroom, and behind a textbook just in case someone decided to look at her. She walked in the halls alone, not with a gaggle of girls like New Mary, and ate lunch alone, her nose in a book.

"Umm, hi?" said Lydia, uncertainly, as I unlocked my locker. It was the beginning of school, and she had not seen me at home that morning. "That's my sister's locker."

It was quite easy for Lydia to get confused, as I did look pretty different. My hair was curled into big ringlets, then placed into a ponytail at the nape of my neck. I was wearing a pair of Caroline's dark skinny jeans, with tight black tank top, below a weird long sleeved black top made of just lace. Caroline gave me instructions for hair and clothes, and she said to always add color through jewelry or shoes when wearing something plain, so I put on red choker with a large fake rose on it, and bright red ballet flats. I had decided that until I was completely used to high heels, I would just wear flats.

"Lydia, it's me," I explained. "It's Ne – I mean, it's Mary."

Her eyes widened and she looked at me with shock. She then looked grabbed my shoulders and went very close to my face, to better detect fraud. After she realized that it was, in fact, me, she exclaimed, "Wow Mare! What happened? You're – you're pretty!"

I frowned. "Caroline Bingley gave me a makeover last night. She gave me all her old clothes, plus some styling tips for hair and make-up and everything else. I should go find her now. I'll see you later." I ran off to Caroline's locker, happy to get away from Lydia's stares, along with the stares of the kids in our hallway.

I was right when I thought that I'd find her in the South Hallway, where her locker was. She was standing right beside it, surrounded by a group of girls and guys. They were listening to every word she said without a sound, then would say something appreciatively, or comment in a way that was suitable. I was about ten feet away from her little group, when Caroline saw me and smiled. "Everyone move, my darling Mary is here. Come Mary!"

The crowd parted, and I stood right beside Caroline in the middle of the group, leaning against the lockers. Caroline looked at my choice of outfit with a small, proud smile. "My dear Mary, what you picked out is perfectly gorgeous. I especially adore the use of the choker. You've really got the hang of this already, see how easy it is? And I bet you were simply fretting over doing all this by yourself, without my help. Ha, see you were, I can tell, darling. But Mary, you are a natural."

She smiled then went on to talk about London to everyone, and 'funny' stories about her old friends and their antics. I wasn't really listening. Though I was grateful for what Caroline did for me, she could be rather annoying. She talked to me like I was an ignorant child, and even though I didn't know much about clothes and makeup, I still was smart, and knew things she didn't. My thoughts were interrupted by a whisper in my ear.

"I liked you better before." The boy, who turned away before I could get a good look at his face, walked off. I was tempted to run after him, as I was familiar with his voice, but I didn't. Caroline would probably angry if I left her for some unknown person. I also didn't want her to know what he said.

"So?" said Caroline, after the bell rang. We learned this morning that we had Geography together, so I was waiting for her to collect books so we could walk to it together.

"So what?" I asked, puzzled.

"Who was that boy that said that to you?" She scowled and glared at me. I looked down.

"I don't know. It was rather rude wasn't it?" I said, trying to frown as well. Secretly, I thought it was kind of nice. It was the first time someone ever said something like that to me.

"It was very rude! I spent hours of my precious time fixing you up to be pretty, and no one's grateful! I mean, you are, but what other people think matters! Well, I think that boy, whoever he is, is utterly daft, and he should look up 'beautiful' in the dictionary, because you are clearly it. You were horrid before, all frumpy and plain. Now look at you!" She sighed and started to walk off. I followed her.

"Don't worry Caroline," I said, confused. It was weird to comfort a friend over something nice someone said about you. "Everyone else thinks I'm very pretty now. That's one person out of about three hundred. It's fine."

**Lydia and Kitty **had gotten home early and told the whole family about my makeover**.** Everyone was sitting in the living, waiting for me to come home, so they could see the drastic change (I had woken up early so I could get ready, then walked to school; no one saw me). When I walked through the door, I was immediately greeted by, "Ooh Mary!" and "Is that you, Mare?"

Mum, who seemed to be in shock, said, "I have another beautiful daughter!" and hugged me, then glared at Elizabeth, who was – though quite pretty – was the worst looking out of all of us. Lizzy smiled and laughed, then asked me who did it.

"Caroline Bingley. We're kind of friends now."

Elizabeth looked uncomfortable. "Is that – William Darcy's friend Caroline?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I know that William Darcy is Charlie Bingley's friend. So, probably."

She nodded and walked off, thinking hard about something. Mum took my attention away by demanding to see my stash of new clothes, and a fashion show of the best pieces. After this, Caroline called and invited me over to watch a movie. Since I didn't have much homework, I agreed. I think I would've agreed anyway, no matter how much homework I had, just to see Charlie.

I was greeted like a Queen per usual, and my things were collected by a servant. Like Caroline, I decided to change for this.

I let my hair down, took off the jewelry and changed into a light, flowing white dress that went a bit higher than the knee. There was lace placed on the bottom of the dress, and on the puffed sleeves. I wore a pair of my old, white flat tops with it. I caught Caroline looking at them with disapproval and disdain, but she didn't say anything.

She changed into dark skinny jeans and a beaded black top, wearing three inch heels and an almost absurd amount of sparkly jewelry.

"Come, come, Mary. We're watching the movie downstairs. Charlie and his friend are watching it with us. To be perfectly honest, I only invited you over so I wouldn't be completely alone with them; they can be so annoying when they talk about their boy stuff."

I hadn't listened to the last part; my heart soared when she said his name, and I had to take some time to catch my breath.

They had their own personal cinema down there, with ten leather seats with cup holders, and a television that was the size of the whole wall. There was a couch, which Charlie's friend, William was lounging on the red leather couch in the corner with a paperback (Hamlet), and Charlie was staring at his shoes in one of the chairs.

"So, are we going to watch this or not?" asked Caroline, sitting right beside William and reading over his shoulder. William abruptly closed the book and sat up straight, as far from Caroline as possible without getting off the couch.

"Not at the moment," answered Charlie. "I invited some other people over to watch it as well. They should be here soon."

Right on cue, the door bell rang, and a servant showed them downstairs. The guests turned out to be my older sisters: Jane and Lizzy. Both William and Charlie stood up and looked rather embarrassed. I knew that Charlie fancied Jane, but William Darcy fancied Lizzy? It didn't seem to make sense, but there they were, staring at each other stupidly and blushing.

"Well, if you haven't invited anyone else, _Charles_, can we please put this movie on?" said Caroline, glaring at William and Lizzy. She looked absolutely livid.

I was stuck beside Caroline and Charlie, one who was trying vainly to take Darcy's attention away from Lizzy, and the other whispering and giggling with Jane. Occasionally, I would say something to Charlie regarding a piece of dialogue or something, but he would just nod and go back to Jane. At the point when I noticed that their lips met, I immediately stood up and insisted that I had to leave, and that Jane must take me home in her car. She looked displeased, but she agreed, excusing herself, and saying goodbye to Charlie with a friendly hug.

While sitting in the car on the long drive home, I realized that New Mary was going to have to come out a bit more if I wanted to get Charlie.


End file.
